


Beast

by evisionarts



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AO3 1 Million, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evisionarts/pseuds/evisionarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His flavor burst across her senses, and every sensation was heightened – the raw fibers of the rope as it rubbed against her bare skin, the gliding smoothness of the silk against her eyelids, the musky scent of the leather, the overwhelming beat of the drum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beast

Professor River Song looked out upon a sea of bright, young faces and shook her head, her strawberry-blonde curls fluttering around her. The class was buzzing with excitement, giggling and chattering, filled with meaningful glances and surreptitious touches.

River cleared her throat and stepped out from behind the podium, her brilliant blue-green eyes settling upon her students like a queen considering her subjects. Silence descended upon the room.

“Tonight is a night for the heart, and undoubtedly you have… plans,” River’s voice prowled through the space, as every student leaned forward, irresistibly drawn to the subtle undercurrent of power in her tone.

“Today, however, you belong to me.”

A collective inhalation of breath met these words, as each person in the class shifted uncomfortably in their chair.

“You may recall,” River continued, winding her way through the seats, leaving the scent of heat and goldenrod in her wake, “that our previous lecture concerned the myth of the Beast.”

“This story is found across many cultures, but is believed to have originated within the underground temple of the Lyric Continuum, where ritual was performed within rooms carved from living rock.”

“The texts describe the caverns as sentient.” River returned to the front of the room, and stood in the glowing light of a window set high in the wall behind her. 

“They say the caves pulsed from within as if you stood inside the heart itself.”

“But what of the Beast?” River breathed, as her students followed her every movement, mesmerized.

“The accounts vary greatly, but each one describes the screams that resounded through the chambers on certain nights.”

“Some say it was a monk,” River’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips as her students stared at her and shivered, “driven mad by the incessant, throbbing beat that permeated the caverns, doomed to wander alone forever unless he discovered a way to heal his own wounded heart.”

“Others that it was a monster that slept for thousands of years until awakened by the kiss of a maiden who the monks had taken far beyond the temple environs and abandoned – a sacrifice to appease the anger of the living mountain.”

“You will have done your own research.” River searched the faces of her rapt students as she smiled wickedly. 

“You will now give me a thousand words that dictate your own theories as to the origin of the Beast with supporting evidence.”

Each head bowed immediately to the tablet upon their desk, fingertips tapping furiously against screens as the class hastened to give their professor whatever she asked of them, if not more.

After an hour had passed a printed copy of their work was slipped into River’s hands as she stood by the doorway. Later each one of them would swear that she had looked directly at them and only them.

River fell asleep that night to the thrum of a bassline that emanated from the pub on the edge of the campus and distant laughter. Her back was propped against her headboard, essay papers arrayed around her, red ink staining her sheets.

 She did not wake up in her bed.

Her blood pulsed in time with the powerful resonance of a single drum.  The deep beats pierced her body and left her trembling and anxious, always anticipating the next rise and fall of an expert hand against stretched- tight skin. Her fingers clutched at the rough rope that bound her wrists above her head, while her ankles rubbed against the worn and supple leather bands that spread her legs apart and held them securely in place.

A large hand slipped beneath the small of her back, forcing her to arch up as the cloth she was lying upon was slowly pulled away. She was left shivering, laid out on smooth, cold stone. She exhaled ragged breaths, nostrils flaring as the scent of ancient earth, crumbling bones and something both alien and familiar filled the air.

She struggled to see through the red haze that veiled her vision. A shadowy silhouette moved beyond the silk tied tightly around her eyes. River felt the drip of heated oil upon her exposed flesh and gasped as it flowed across her breasts and down her stomach. 

“Ssh…” a deep, male voice commanded, as she felt a demanding touch against the curve of her lips. Her mouth was parted, slowly and insistently, until a single finger entered her and stroked against her tongue.

His flavor burst across her senses, and every sensation was heightened – the raw fibers of the rope as it rubbed against her bare skin, the gliding smoothness of the silk against her eyelids, the musky scent of the leather, the overwhelming beat of the drum. 

Her sigh was low and yearning as he removed himself from her mouth. She jumped as he brushed against her breast, circling and caressing her areola, rubbing her own saliva into her pebbling skin. He stroked a finger across her nipple then stilled, as if waiting for a signal to continue.

She moved restlessly, and he chuckled, but otherwise did not stir.

“Please …” River begged, sensation lessening as his flavor faded, “I want … I need to taste you again.”

He hummed thoughtfully, then lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Her mouth parted and he slipped his tongue within, allowing her own to wrap around him. They both shuddered as they drank from each other, exchanging breaths and becoming lost in the relentless beats that echoed around them.

 “You taste … different,” River whispered, straining against her bonds as he lifted his head from her.

“Perhaps,” he answered, stroking her nose then leaning in and breathing into her ear, “I’m not who you think I am.”

River thought about this until the moment two drops of heated oil hit the center of each breast. It burned for the briefest of moments, and she cried out as cool fingers soothed her tingling nipples, rubbing the oil into her skin.

“Again,” she demanded. 

He growled, his breath hot against her neck, his teeth biting sharply at her pulse point, his tongue darting out to soothe her and then biting her again just as her startled shout subsided.

Blood rushed to the injured area as he continued to lick and suck at her skin, leaving her marked and aching.

His tongue wandered down between her breasts until he turned his head and bit at the side of one, licking at the mark and traveling upwards until he took an already erect nipple into his mouth. He spent some time there, biting and soothing and sucking, only leaving to descend upon her other breast.

River panted and twisted beneath him, unable to contain the mewling cries that fell from her parted lips. Her chest heaved as she struggled to get enough air while liquid dripped from between her thighs, her scent penetrating the air around them.

Sweat slicked her skin and she raised her head as he breathed out such an intense sound of pure want that an answering moan left her lips before she was even aware she was making it.

His mouth returned to hers and this time it was as if he was intent on devouring her, his tongue thrusting into her, his hands tangling in her hair and pulling. Then he was gone.

“No …” River sobbed, the shock of the sudden loss of sensation leaving her disoriented and trembling.

She cursed the silk that covered her eyes, pleading for it to be removed.

“Perception hinders us,” a rough, low voice replied, “we think that what we see is all there is, when in reality there is so much more for us to experience.”

River drew a steadying breath as cool glass caressed her cheek. He drew a smooth, slick object across her skin, down her neck, resting it for a moment in the hollow of her throat. 

He continued downward, maneuvering between her breasts and across her abdomen, stopping against her belly button. 

He kissed the gentle curve of her stomach then slid the object lightly through tight curls, moving on to stroke her inner thigh.

He lowered his mouth to her cunt, his tongue circling her clit, while he moved the object to rest lightly against her entrance.

River tensed, but he lapped at her soothingly, pressing the object occasionally against her clit, and then sliding it through her slick folds. Her breathing turned ragged and her hips strained towards him as she pulled at her bonds. He sucked her clit into his mouth and she jerked, begging for more.

“I need … I need …” River pleaded and then let out a long, guttural moan as he pushed the cool glass object inside her. 

He did not stop, continuing to sink into her until the fist that curled around the object rested against her entrance. Slowly he pulled out, then slid back in again, angling up to hit a spot inside her that turned her breathy sighs into shouts of pleasure. He increased his pace, fucking her with a steady, hard rhythm, as he licked and sucked at her clit over and over again.

River’s back arched away from the stone she lay upon, her screams echoing through the chamber, in counterpoint with the ever present beat of the drum. Her entire body shook, on the very edge of orgasm, and then he released her clit and withdrew the object from her, leaving her empty and growling in frustration.

River Song was angry and she wanted him to know it. She cursed him in every language she knew, even as she worked out seventy-six different ways to free herself from her bonds and leave him trussed and naked for the natives to find. 

It surprised her when she felt his long fingers already loosening the knots in the rope around her wrists and unbuckling the leather around her ankles. She sat up, turning to sit on the edge of the stone table and waited but he did not remove her blindfold.

“I know who you are,” she said finally.

He laughed. “Of course you do, you always know.”

She reached out as he stood quietly before her, her fingers exploring the contours of a completely alien face. She was surprised at how familiar it felt - not on the surface – there were eyebrows and wrinkles and a much smaller chin - but the buzz of golden energy beneath her palms, while changed, still felt like home.

She trailed her hands down his body, delighted to feel bare skin, finding him slim and subtly muscled. She brushed against his stomach, feeling him tighten beneath her as she continued her journey, finally wrapping her fingers around his erection and pumping slowly.

His breathing grew harsh and loud, and she spread her legs, encouraging him to step between them. He was quick to do so, wrapping his arms around her as he nuzzled his face into her hair. 

Some things hadn’t changed.

River continued sliding one hand up and down his cock, her thumb slipping over the tip while the other reached around and clutched his ass, pulling him closer.

“My love?” River inquired calmly as her hand stopped pumping and moved south to grasp his balls in an iron grip.

He yelped, not yet at the point of pain but knowing that if he moved an inch the pitch of his voice might be permanently altered.

“If you want to keep this face you better finish what you started.”

He sighed with longing and desire as he brushed his fingertips against her cheeks, down her nose, across her lips. He touched her reverently, exploring with the same intensity she had used to rediscover him.

He cradled her head in his large palms and kissed her slowly and searchingly, his tongue gliding along hers as they took the time to contrast and compare different flavors. River loosed her grip on him, and slid her hands around and over his body, paying strict attention to every catch of breath and suppressed groan, learning him through touch and taste, sound and smell.

He continued to explore her thoroughly, gently pushing her back against the cool, stone table and climbing up beside her. He hovered over her, raining kisses down her body until she flipped him with an impatient click of her tongue.

He grinned up at her as she straddled him, gently taking a curl and tucking it behind her ear. He sobered as he unwrapped the silk that covered her eyes. She blinked down at him, adjusting to the dim light as he gazed at her uncertainly.

River hesitantly reached out and smoothed a hand through his shock of gray hair. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again she looked at him with a smile so wide and bright he laughed out loud.

She lifted herself up, grasping his erection and guiding it to her as she sank down upon him with a satisfied moan. His eyes widened as he struggled to breathe through the intense pleasure that gripped him.

“River …” he gasped, his voice shaking with desire, “my wife.”

“Husband,” River whispered fiercely as his hands circled her waist, helping her to raise and lower herself, his body thrusting up to meet hers in a perfect rhythm.

River leaned into him, capturing his mouth in a passion-filled kiss as he drove into her. Her muscles swelled and clenched around him, as she pulled back to gaze into his ancient eyes, her own lit with a savage fire. His hand slipped from her hip, across her stomach and down between her legs, rough fingers circling over and around her clit. 

She threw her head back, wild curls flying as she screamed and came beneath his relentless touch. He continued to thrust wildly inside her, drawing out her pleasure as long as he could. He clutched her to him and spilled into her as he sobbed out her name against her throat.

They lay entwined as the drum pulsed in rhythm with the beating of their hearts. He slipped from her, gently shifting her to his side so that she lay in the circle of his arms with her head upon his chest. 

“Where are we?” River asked drowsily, her eyes sliding shut.

“Sssh…” he replied, holding her tighter to him, “sleep, my beauty.”

River awoke in her bed, nestled in her sheets, alone yet not lonely. She yawned and stretched contentedly, as her blanket slipped down to reveal her bare chest. She took a moment to admire the marks that blossomed there.

Her papers were stacked in a neat pile on her night stand, and she laughed as she sifted through them. Each was marked with a series of disbelieving comments in the margins, with much praise for student creativity but outright scoffing at historical accuracy. 

On the bottom she found an essay she had not seen before. It was the only one without red marks of any kind. She settled in to read, the covers slipping down to her waist, a hand subconsciously caressing the side of her breast. Her eyebrows raised as she read this theory, her breath hitching as she found a particularly stimulating passage. By the time she was finished her skin was flushed and her legs were squeezed together tightly in an attempt to alleviate the ache between them. 

She searched the paper for the identity of the author, but could find nothing. Finally she turned it over and found a large scrawl looping across the entire page in vivid red ink. 

It was simply signed – “The Beast”.


End file.
